


We Mean Nothing

by ishre_yann



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, M/M, but I seem to be really bad at comfort, clone!Steve, if this can be called angst, poorBuckywhathavetheydonetoyou!Bucky aka, so have angst instead, tws!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishre_yann/pseuds/ishre_yann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What captured the Soldier’s attention , though,  was the man’s eyes. They were an unnatural baby blue, hardly  human at all. They were too mechanical in their movements.  Too precise. They sent a cold tingle up the Soldier’s spine.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>The guy was also looking back at him, analyzing the Soldier just as the Soldier was analyzing him - so the glass isn’t  mirrored on his side, he thought. It was a precaution, to prevent any collateral damage in case something went wrong. The question was: to protect who? The Soldier or the man ?</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Something twisted inside the Soldier’s chest. He refused to let it out.  He didn’t do anything, but he remained aware  aware of the sensation. Was it another malfunction? He couldn’t tell.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Mean Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone <3 I am so excited for this because I’ve waited so long and finally I have a bunch of minutes of spare time - thanks uni, thank you so much ugh - to post this!
> 
> So, first things first! I wanna thank these people for helping me:  
> \- [**karaii**](www.karaii.tumblr.com) because this fanfiction is for her awesome fanart - that y’all can find here. Thank you so much for letting me do this - which is basically for you, after all <3  
>  \- [**ookaookaooka**](www.ookaookaooka.tumblr.com), [**lehawkeye**](www.lehawkeye.tumblr.com) and last but not least [**b3tar3ad3r ******](www.b3tar3ad3r.tumblr.com)thank you guys so much for betareading and correcting everything, I owe you so much asoidhaosdihasoj<3
> 
> You can find the work also on tumblr, [_here_](http://hikku.tumblr.com/post/137548715540/we-mean-nothing)

**WE MEAN NOTHING**

 

 _He will powder his guns_  
And if I try to get close, he is already gone  
_I don't know where he's going, I don't know where he's been_  
_But he is restless at night, he has horrible dreams_  
_So we lay in the dark, 'cause we got nothing to say_  
_Just the beating of hearts like two drums in the grey_  
_I don't know what we're doing, I don't know what we've done_  
_But the fire is coming, so I think we should run_  
[Daughter - Run]

 

_02.09.1980_

The Soldier’s  eyes flew open. It was a mechanical movement, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, but he would always see the same, white wall. White - that was the only colour his mind could wrap itself around. He would be sitting or lying on a metal cot, the kind they use in prisons - except this wasn’t exactly a prison, not that kind of prison. He would always get up and wait for someone to open the peephole on the door and warn the others that he was awake. He would get up and say nothing: if he was not told to, there was no need to speak. 

They would always check his vitals, give him pills and food and anything else he needed to sustain his own body. Then, he would get dressed - the same, old uniform - and arm himself.

It was the standard procedure.

This time, instead, something changed.

Something was not the same, when the Soldier opened his eyes. He was still, inside his own room, lying on his metal cot, unable to tell the difference between cold and warm. He sat on the cot and waited until the soldiers came in, which they did, eventually, like they always did. But this time they didn’t give him orders. No names he had to silence. No instructions, no more experiments. 

When the scientist started to say something different, the Soldier swallowed, dry throat scraping. 

He didn’t like experiments. New things... those were the most hurtful. Changes were never good, for him. But he had learned his lesson: acceptance was a better choice than denial, because denial would’ve brought even more pain than he could bear.

“You were assigned to a new recruit, ”the scientist said to him, as he inched closer to smooth the Soldier’s uniform. He wouldn’t need any cleaning, if not essential ones. So this was not the time, nor the place. He got dressed, no weapons though.

A sign and he was walking outside the cell - _room_ , he thought, looking at the backs of the heads in front of him. Two soldiers in  front, two behind, rifles ready to shoot down any possible threat. They didn’t bother him. He was used to this. It was a precaution in case he lost control - which had happened, many  times. His left hand twitched and he tightened  his fists. 

His gaze wandered. He shouldn’t look away, he wasn’t allowed to - he wasn’t supposed to act like them. He knew what that implied , that he wasn’t supposed to be human but he was also conscious that he was not like them, he didn’t match that definition. He was something else, something unworthy of that term. A machine. The expendable pawn on a chessboard he didn’t know. He was the black pawn and he knew only the white pawn he needed to take out.

They marched down the corridor and halted in front of a door, identical to the many doors they had already passed. A knock. Another peephole rattled, another eye spied them and then closed the peephole, another hand turned the doorknob and let them in with the sound of rusted hinges.

Apart from their group and the agent who had opened the door, the place was deserted . No souls walked these  hallways, no feet tapped; there was not so much as an appearance of life.. It was death and poison like the rest of HYDRA. 

He stalked inside with the two soldiers in front, staring straight ahead. . He didn’t dare look anywhere else. He just followed orders and did what they told him to do. Just like that.

“Stop,” he heard one of the scientists say.

He stopped. The four soldiers distanced themselves from  the Soldier, looking at him, hands on their rifles.

“Do you know why you need a recruit, Soldier?” the same doctor  asked, pacing  in front of him.

The Soldier stared, eyes empty . He felt nothing but cold. _Warm_ was a faraway  sensation, tasted on  past missions, when the weather was sunny and he felt his uniform  heating up and becoming  too tight for his body.

“No.” His voice was a distant growl. 

“Well, let’s show you then, shall we?” the doctor  said.

So he stayed silent and still , back  erect, eyes never flickering , never breaking  eye contact - when the soldiers moved aside,  letting him see beyond them. There was a window on the wall opposite, which allowed everyone to see into the  adjacent room, which was painted completely white.  Inside,  a man was mirroring  his position, looking at him. 

He had straight blond  hair, something near a bowl cut - except where it was supposed to be short, metal plates replaced the hair. The plates continued all along his jawline, ending at a final trapezoidal  piece on his  chin, hiding the clammy skin.  And while the face was visible, the metal  hid  the entire neck, along with something synthetic - he could tell by the color and how it reflected the light.  A uniform obscured the rest of his body. 

What captured the Soldier’s attention , though,  was the man’s eyes. They were  an unnatural baby blue, hardly  human at all. They were too mechanical in their movements.  Too precise. They sent a cold tingle up the Soldier’s spine. 

The guy was also looking back at him, analyzing the Soldier just as the Soldier was analyzing him - _so the glass isn’t  mirrored on his side,_ he thought. It was a precaution,  to prevent any collateral damage in case something went wrong. The question was: to protect who? The Soldier or the man ?

Something twisted inside the Soldier’s chest. He refused to let it out.  He didn’t do anything, but he remained aware  aware of the sensation.   Was it another malfunction? He couldn’t tell. He was used to managing  things like this,  and it didn’t seem important enough to notify the doctors because as soon as he acknowledged that uncomfortable feeling, it was already fading,  to be replaced by stillness and emptiness. It was almost like he was sick, even if it was impossible -the serum didn’t give you the chance to get sick. So he just swallowed, putting a distance between himself and that feeling. He wasn’t supposed to feel at all, but sometimes it was difficult not to. He was... He didn’t even know anymore. Human, machine, object. He had all the identical part of a human body, except for the left arm and part of his bone structure on that side, or muscles -the metal arm was heavy, couldn’t be attached to the normal body, even with the help of the serum; still, despite this human look, he was treated as the object he was -a soldier, a pawn which could be easily replaced with something stronger, finer and useful -functional. He was functional. He suspected that this was the only reason he was still inside HYDRA and not forgotten who knows how many inches underground. They probably hadn’t found anything better than him, so they had no choice but to keep him and make him as functional as possible.

The Soldier turned his head, looking for the same man who spoke before, and he found him - smiling, pleased, encouraging.

“This is RS2.05C, a prototype almost finished,” he heard the man explain. But the Soldier was already looking at the man -  well, prototype of a man - the  android. “It will be your partner in selected missions, since we’ve had issues in the last two.” The Soldier knew this information didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t supposed to complain about a choice they made for him - they had done it so many times, by now, he’d lost count. So he didn’t ask, didn’t complain, didn’t do anything at all if he wasn’t asked to. 

“You need to interact with the prototype and test it. We need visual and auditory responses. Since you’ll work with it, you will need to tell us when it doesn’t understand something or communicate to you correctly.” the man stalked towards the glass, motioning for the Soldier to approach. So he moved his feet, inching closer to the glass, as the prototype did the same - his movements were mechanical and awkward, and he too didn’t suspend his eye contact.

“We’ll simulate the mission environment later, today will only be focused on vocal interaction.” The man said, clicking a pen and holding a bunch of written papers with blank spaces on them - ready to take notes.

The Soldier nodded, before turning his head and looking at the prototype.

“Does it know the codes?” he asked

“Of course it does.” The scientists answered, something annoyed in his voice.

The Soldier didn’t mind, it was normal. He didn’t get offended, he didn’t care. HYDRA  made sure they removed all those too-human reactions.  So he just looked at the prototype, thinking of what he could say. 

“Building, third floor. The Dakota, right wing, block one. Target moving, split up and anticipate it before it reaches the main entrance.”

The prototype animated perked and blinked just one time. “Where is the target going?” it said. The prototype’s voice was.. muffled. And still, he could swear he had heard that voice somewhere else. The Soldier blinked, curiosity rushing in his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t be like this, he was not programmed to be like this, but he couldn’t help it. It sounded just like a call, something he needed to answer to. He knew it was important. Something was not okay. And..

“Soldier.” The scientist broke the silence. “Where is the target going?” he asked, his voice rough.

The Soldier blinked, nodded and looked around, before his gaze again met the prototype’s.

“Corridor, going towards block two, the target missed the first flight of stairs.” he clarified, afraid of the sound of his voice. His mind was playing a strange game with him, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

“Taking the first flight of stairs, you chase it and slow it down as much as you can.” The prototype answered, looking back at him, nothing on his face if not..

Another twist, until something inside him snapped. His mind snapped. He didn’t know _why_ , he just knew he needed to take the android out of that room. He had to. It wasn’t safe for him to be there. That place wasn’t safe for any of them.

“Hold your fire.” A distant voice commanded, the scientist’s voice. “Soldier. Take a step back.” An order he didn’t process. “Soldier.” The Soldier - _Bucky_ took a step forward. “I said step back!” Another step forward and both of his hands on the glass. He felt tears in his eyes, something painful in his chest. He couldn’t breathe properly. He couldn’t think straight. All he knew was that the glass was cold and that that little guy wasn’t matching his actions.

_Get out of here_ , he knew he wasn’t saying anything -or maybe he was, he couldn’t tell.

“Soldier!” The man blurted. “Take him away.”

Bucky smashed his metal fist against the glass, with all of his strength. The glass cracked, while all the soldiers inside the room pointed at him with their rifles.

“Stand down!” They ordered again. “Turn back and step away.” He could hear fear in their voices. He knew what he was capable of, _they_ knew -they were those who taught him, in the end.

The scientist had already backed away to a corner of the room, looking wary and concerned. The android murmured something Bucky didn’t understand. He was looking at the glass, his face cracked into a thousand expressions and emotions at the same time. Too many questions in his head. Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he doing something? The guy stared at him emotionless. He didn’t answer, he didn’t inch closer, he just stayed there. So Bucky let his hands slid on the glass, until gravity brought them back near to his sides. Powerless. Something like desperation ran through his veins, corrupted his heart and his mind. He swallowed bitterness, bile.

He couldn’t get out, not without him. And it still didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know this guy. He didn’t know who he was, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, with him, with Bucky.

So he turned his back at the guy, facing all the other soldiers. Stillness. They were all tensed and wary, didn’t trust him enough to keep himself under control. So three of them -eight of them- inched closer.

“Hands behind your head, Soldier.” they said, when he didn’t respond to their commands. “I said hands be-..”

Bucky was fast. He was trained to be like this: fast, unpredictable. He should’ve faced so many threats that a bunch of simple, weak humans wouldn’t be enough to stop him. So he grabbed the rifle of the closest soldier to him and  used it to twist the soldier’s wrists and slam the rifle against the man’s face. When the other soldiers fired, he jumped behind the second on his left side, using him as shields. The bullets sank inside his chests - Bucky could hear their breaths broken by surprise and pain.

He didn’t think about that, he didn’t mind. He was supposed to do this, in the end that’s what they trained him for. He didn’t feel compassion or empathy, they made sure he wasn’t able to do that. So he took the chance to grab another rifle and put the first on his shoulder to use as a baldric. With the second he shot the other three soldiers who had backed away - as the door flew open, letting in two more men covered up in black suits, pointing their rifles at Bucky, hands shaking. After that, the two remaining soldiers were a bunch of shaking bones, rifles badly pointed at Bucky and behind them hid the scientist with his notes still in his hands.

The soldier on the left fired and Bucky took cover behind his metal arm, stalking towards the man, grabbing his rifle, shoving it hard and pushing him against the other soldier. Both fell, but they didn’t get the chance to get up again, because Bucky was already  smashing their faces in with  precise left-handed punches.  They looked like they were made of shortbread.

Only the scientist remained. He was smiling at Bucky, his hand resting on the emergency button - red lights were now flashing, together with an acute, intermittent sound. The alarm.

“Now what? Do you really think you can get away? Don’t forget what you are. You are _nothing_ to HYDRA.” His voice was sure and firm, as if he had won.

Bucky took a few steps forward, reaching for the man’s neck with his metal hand, grabbing him and lifting him above his head. As the man’s eyes rolled back into his skull he raised his hands to grab Bucky’s arm, shoving against it as desperation rushed through him at the thought of his own death. He hadn’t yet said a word when the sound of broken bones reached his ears - he had clenched his fist so hard that he had broken the man’s neck. And then the vertebrae gave up, crushed by the pressure. It was instantaneous.  All Bucky could hear were his choked sounds and the alarm. He knew he had only a few seconds before more soldiers filled the room and brought new weapons with them.

His mind worked fast, while he let the lifeless body fall to the ground. He turned and faced the glass. The man hadn’t moved. He was staring at Bucky with that silent, empty gaze, waiting for something. So Bucky broke the glass with another punch and  climbed  through the hole,  reducing the distance between  himself and the prototype.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think of anything else to say. He had never had breathing issues, but now his lungs were tight and he couldn’t get enough air.  That little guy did something to him and Bucky couldn’t tell what - and _god, it was so frustrating. So, so, so, so frustrating, he wanted to hit the wall with his head until the answers came out_. The only thing that came to his mind, though, was a word. And it made no sense.

“Steve...” he said, giving voice to his own thoughts. HYDRA was so good at replacing memories with false beliefs, what if that too was one of them?

“My code is RS2.05C, sir,” the android answered.

Bucky’s heart wilted.  He didn’t understand that, he _couldn’t_ understand it. This wasn’t what he had been taught. He wasn’t used to dealing with emotions, especially not towards others. He was supposed to  analyze what he felt inside himself - and the deep, endless void he found there now was so terrifying he couldn’t think about it. Not thinking was easy. 

“I know,” Bucky answered. This was stupid. He knew that the android’s  name was different, but he still wanted to call him Steve. “You don’t look like a machine.”

The android  tilted his head to the left. “You too.”  His  voice was mechanical, but it had   a certain timbre that sounded... Well, that was something, right? Something _humane_ inside of it. He looked at the bodies. 

“This is against protocol,” the android stated. “I suggest you surrender, or there will be consequences.”

“I don’t care, you can’t stay here.” Bucky was still unsure. A stressed sigh escaped his mouth, and he looked warily at the still-closed door. The alarm was a constant reminder of time flowing. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I am afraid I do not understand.” Steve - _the android -_ was a stranger, he acted like a stranger, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the familiar sensation that pervaded him.

“Me neither.” _Then what the hell are you doing?_

His mind felt broken.  It was missing some pieces, so many that he didn’t know how this could be even called life. They had taken away too much for him to even feel loss  over what he once had - had  he ever had anything except this laboratory and his missions? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t trust himself enough to believe that, but HYDRA had never confirmed that he had  always been here.

Maybe he was crazy.

“Come with me.” Bucky said, sounding crazier than ever to his very own ears.

“I cannot. This is not a mission,” the android asked, his voice flat, as if emotions were too much of a nuisance to express.

“Come with me, I need to get you out of here.” Bucky found it difficult to say it out loud, because they almost sounded true, as if this was his entire life’s purpose. He couldn't let St—the prototype - _a fucking machine, not a man, not a boy, a machine!_ \- live there.

“It is not in my protocols. You were not given the permission to tell me what to do.” Again, that voice was strange, but it did remind of Bucky of.. something. Something he knew he shouldn't've forgotten. And still, he couldn't remember. Whatever HYDRA did, they did it well.

“I can't--” Bucky murmured. His head was starting to feel strange.. He was there, with this Steve he didn't know, but he was also somewhere else.  It felt nostalgic, an emptiness that only existed in deserts and dead landscapes. He couldn't bear it, he didn't want to bear it. But it was so ineluctable, and he was suddenly so tired of fights - against himself, against HYDRA, against even some of his targets - so he didn't fight. He was on the edge,  and his own thoughts were going to overwhelm him.

“Surrender.” Steve - _no, not Steve, not fucking Steve_ , that wasn’t his name. This was _someone else_. He broke into Bucky's thoughts. And Bucky was there again, present, focused, when Steve’s mouth opened slightly.

That was the only warning he had  before the door of the room slammed open, , letting in so many people he felt the panic rising up inside his mind. What could he do? There were so many of them - all armed to the teeth - and he didn’t even have his complete suit, his armor...

So he shifted, aiming the rifle at the men who came in first. They fired shots simultaneously, and he succeeded in killing three of them before the second wave came in and he lost count. More soldiers  hung  back, hiding behind the wall and shooting intermittently. They were coordinated, but he was faster.

He shot one, two, three men and climbed through the broken window when the fourth took cover under the wall. The soldier tried to fire, but Bucky was already there, having anticipated his next move. He grabbed the rifle and shoved it abruptly at the soldier’s face, then ripped it away and fired two shots at the door, wounding one of the soldiers hiding behind it. Bucky took advantage of the time it bought him and drove the butt of the rifle against the face of man at his feet. The soldier whined and went limp. Before he hit the ground, Bucky grabbed him by the front of his shirt and used the body as a shield as the second soldier behind the door fired three more shots. Then Bucky was running at the door, shunting the bullets aside with his metal arm and punching a path through the first two soldiers that looked ready to fight.

Outside the corridor was even worse.  And the prototype was still not moving, still watching him as he stalked outside, too distracted by his enemies to pay attention to the room again.

Bucky fought with more men than he could remember ever having in his training. But he _was_ trained for  this kind of fight. And the more he fought, the more what he was doing made sense. He did fight HYDRA, it felt almost familiar, almost fair, _right_. This was something he should’ve done. He needed to fight them. He always had, why had he given up? This was not supposed to be a battle where he lost. He was supposed to win and come back, whatever “back” meant; he knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, with those men calling his code name and trying to calm him down.

There were bodies all around him, he couldn’t tell whose blood covered his hands, his face, his hair. He was using his last bullets, striking the soldier in front of him right through the chest, ending his life. He wasn’t afraid that he would have family. HYDRA didn’t have anything but their uniforms and beliefs.

He lost track of time. He didn't know how many minutes passed - or was it  hours? And he was still fighting, still dampening his hair, his face, his whole body with fresh blood. His grip was slippery, he almost lost his gun twice. It slowed him down, but he kept going. The only thing he knew was that he needed to keep going; maybe he would die in the process, but he had to what he started. This was suicide. 

At some point, he started to believe dying because of this was still better than continuing to live under their control, maybe brainwashed again inside that room -that _horrible, painful_ room of theirs. So he kept putting down those who came, but still, there were too many to fight. Desperation built up inside Bucky's chest, and he well knew what happened when his own thoughts were against him. He was alone against an army - who knew how many of them there were. He started rushing, desperation running through him as if he had already lost. 

The first sign came from his back. Two men succeeded in sneaking up on him and entered the room, taking out the prototype. It was so obedient that it didn't even complain. 

Bucky stumbled backwards, reaching  for Steve - _Steve, Steve, Steve, his Steve. They did something to him. They-_ -

“STEVE!” 

Steve turned and stared  at him, merciless baby blue eyes scanning him blankly, emotionless. It was almost a relief. 

“Surrender, Soldier. There will be consequences,” Steve said.

Three lines of HYDRA agents, pointing rifles, were covering a small group of scientists whispering among themselves. 

“Enough,” someone said.

Bucky barely had time to turn  before a shot rang out and a  flash of pain ran through his leg. His vision filled with white. Another shot and his other leg was burning. The bullets had passed through but they weren't aimed at vital points.

_The muscles,_ Bucky thought. He dropped to his knees, hard, his whole body tense with pain, adrenaline and stress. He choked out a sound and felt a third bullet dig into his shoulder, joined by  three soporific darts. This time, they hit true and suddenly everything was  difficult - fighting, thinking, even breathing.  The darts must be very concentrated. They were prepared. And he was a fool, if he thought this might've ended differently.

His vision blurred; he drifted into unconsciousness. All he could remember was his desperation and despair at realizing he’d lost. He'd lost all the time. He had tried, but he was never meant to finish it. He would fall just like that, in front of men that didn't know what mercy felt like. They didn't expect that from their enemies. It was a weakness. He was still weak to their eyes. He remembered triumphant smiles; someone snorted, sarcasm on their face. He’d killed so many men and they didn't even care. He was the machine, he was the monster - but he was a different kind of monster now, more human.

It felt like minutes before he fell. Everything was blurred. Nothing stayed where it should’ve. 

Until darkness was the only thing. Until he forgot what even thinking was like.

And it was like sinking in mud.

 

[…]

 

_05.03.1988_

Bucky opened his eyes.

The ice was always the difficult part to tolerate, but he managed to do it. He was inside the cryo, in his own personal capsule. Metal and ice were the only two permanent features in his “life”, or whatever he could’ve called it. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to sleep, the only sleep he got was inside his capsule, and it was dreamless. He woke up hollow and empty. It didn’t even feel anymore as waking up. He just opened his eyes and walked off. Just like one of those androids.

He couldn’t remember why his body ached. Maybe another training session. He had fought something, or someone. He didn’t even remember what he did to deserve another harsh punishment, but in the end he never recalled anything. So he didn’t ask why his body ached.

He just walked out the capsule and looked at the scientist. They started teaching him new alphabets from other languages. When they didn’t push him to the edge till he collapsed - whether that was from pain,  fatigue, or drugs - they would put him on a chair with a tutor listening and imitating his gestures. Apparently, he’d be going out for some real stealth missions in the future -or maybe they found out a more efficient way to lead missions.

He didn’t care. He wasn’t programmed to care. All he was programmed to do was obey orders and kill whoever needed to be killed. That’s what he was about. A machine, one that bled if wounded, but a machine.

“Alright Soldier, walk.” The scientist stated, before stalking away outside the door.

Many HYDRA soldiers were following him, rifles clearly aiming at him. He didn’t complain. He didn’t fear them. He knew he was always unstable, sometimes, so he didn’t stop and think about them. He just followed the scientist. The corridor was small, almost claustrophobic. He didn’t know where he was. He could be anywhere. They really never told him if he was moved or anything else, but every HYDRA headquarter was the same. He couldn’t tell the difference. Every place they took him in was the same. Maybe he never moved at all. Maybe he was still stuck in the same place from the beginning. _What beginning?_ Did this ever start? Or was it like this always? He couldn’t recall. It wasn’t important. He didn’t mind anyway.

They lead him inside a room. One of the many. He saw a blonde man inside it; some parts mechanic, some others made out of flesh -organic. He didn’t react. Nothing moved inside him. The guy -or maybe an android? Yes, definitely an android- was sitting in front of a metal table, an empty chair on the other side of it. It didn’t stop staring who knows where, probably the wall. It didn’t even notice the Soldier’s presence. So he stood still, waiting for directions. The android was small and slender, he didn’t look older than the Soldier, maybe not even over 26 years old. But still, if he was an android, then _its_ age didn’t even matter, since it could be even 1, or 2 years old.

The boy was pale, where the Soldier could see the flash at least, pale and delicate. Its eyes were blue and sly, even if it wasn’t pointing them at anything. It almost felt as if it was a real person, and not a machine. The Soldier’s head went still, blocking and forcing himself not to think about anything, mostly because he needed to be present and to listen to what they were saying to him.

“Sit,” the man ordered, inching closer to the table.

The Soldier did the same, taking a seat and facing the android. Only then, his cerulean eyes moved, fixing themselves on the Soldier’s. They were too human, to be fake. Maybe it was a hybrid.

“RS4.01C, start.” The scientist’s voice was cold, emotionless.

But the android moved. It didn’t talk, it didn’t emit a sound. He used ASL instead. And Bucky could understand everything due to what he learned during the training. The program was efficient.

_My name is RS4.01C, it is nice to meet you; code case n.84,_ he decoded.

“RS4.01C is not provided with any vocal support to ease stealth missions. It still can receive vocal instructions since you’ll be working at far distances, and sometimes radio silence will be needed, as well.”

The Soldier nodded, turned back to the android and replied with gestures.

_Code case n.17,_ he explained. _What are your protocols?_

The android acted right away. It was sophisticated, so sophisticated that it was almost impressive the speed at which it could decipher and codify his own choices.

_Standard protocols,_ then he lowered his hands on the table.

Meanwhile, the scientist was taking notes, nodding sometimes, looking at them and then going back to his own papers, writing down stuff.

_Will the next mission require standard protocols?,_ the Soldier gestured -still staring at the android.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the scientist added “we’ll handle everything.” At those words the Soldier turned his head, while the android didn’t. Neither one of them said a word. Everyone was waiting for the man to end whatever he was doing. This one had dark, empty eyes - narrowed while he stared at him. He never smiled, not even when he raised his head, watching at the Soldier. “Stand up now, both of you, let’s put at some good practice what you’ve learned.”

So they stood up, following the scientist’s steps, always followed by the small squad of HYDRA soldiers.

“Uhm, you. Yes, you. Take 17 and 84 outside, we’ll be in the field. Want to try those sniper rifles out.” the scientist said, turning left and walking down another corridor. The Soldier and the android just followed those men they were surrounded by. Quietly.

Not 84, nor 17, ever stared at each other. Not one time. The only time they made eye contact was for the Soldier to understand what 84 was saying.

 

[...]

 

_10.24.2002_

_84 on site, waiting for visual contact._

The Soldier nodded at those gestures, before focusing on the targets. He stalked forward, without backstepping, not even once. He kept going, putting enemies down as he was taught to. Some of them passed away with a strangled sound, far too weak to emit something louders. Others... well, others screamed when he broke their bones and their necks. And those who tried to run away, got shot down by 84 with a well placed bullet in the head. The facility corridor was covered in dark, red blood as the Soldier walked away. Blood over his fists, some more splattered all over his abdomen. He didn’t mind. He didn’t seem to mind at all, if not for the possibility that his hands might get slippery. He needed to be able to grab a knife and keep it in place. So the only reason why he brushed his palms against his sides was that. Functional.

He checked the floor. It took him exactly fifteen minutes. After that, he went back to the windows, facing 84 on the other building. It was still on site, waiting for visual instructions.

_Floor clean, proceeding down. Eyes on the target,_ he gestured.

_Hold on, target is moving._ The Soldier didn’t even ask where, for the answer came right after. _Floor below, they are taking the stairs. Two men left on the floor._

So the Soldier moved. Fast. He jumped right over the first flight of stairs. He didn’t bother to stay silent anymore, it was quite obvious that the target had understood what was going on. So he kept moving. The two men on the floor weren’t difficult. He killed the first one with a knife, the second one with two bullets from his gun. He didn’t stop. Another flight of stairs and he could hear the footsteps of the target surrounded by a whole troop of bodyguards. He didn’t stop. He never stopped. He ran like a stray dog runs after his meal, his only meal. And he bit hard, when he reached it.

The first two men fell to the floor under the pressure of his metal hand. His fingers dug inside the skull of another man, grabbing and shoving him against another, making sure the body could also take the two bullets a bodyguards was shooting at him.

There were screams. There was blood. A lot of it. He could smell it. His lungs were soaked in it, as were his hands. So when he kicked the last of the bodyguards out of the window, shattering it, there was nothing left between him and his fat, bald target. If not blood and horror -not in the Soldier’s eyes, not in his heart. He always looked like tar. A silhouette made out of tar dancing on a lake of blood.

“No- Please, n-no.. I have- I have children. A family..! Pl-please! Please!”

The Soldier was deaf. He had always been. Why did he have to stop? No one ever stopped when he was screaming for mercy. They never did. If possible, they kept going, even harder. So, now, who said he should’ve stopped? Who said he could choose to stop? That man? That petty, helpless, shaking man who wasn’t even able to safeguard his own life? The Soldier’s teeth clenched together behind the mask. He kneeled right in front of the man.

“Do it and your fr-” his throat slit right open, the knife digging in the flesh, cutting it open. It was far too easy. He never listened to their threats. He knew enough to know how to avoid everything.

So it was understandable, that when he heard the shots outside the building one after another he stood up quickly, facing the windows. He couldn’t see the upper building properly, he was too far below, but he heard 84’s return fire, until there was silence.

His heartbeat accelerated, missed a beat. Rush. His brain wasn’t working quite well, when he started to run up the stairs. He jumped two steps at time, his heart racing in his chest. His breath was not under control anymore, and neither his mind. He knew this was irrational, but he simultaneously didn’t know it. All at the same time. He tried to convince himself that he was just checking up if 84 was operative and able to make it back. It certainly would’ve been such a waste to give up on an android, and his memory chip. So he ran as if the devil was chasing him. And after the last flight of stairs, he was able to reach the rooftop, looking right at the other building.

He saw nothing.

His heart missed another beat, but he didn’t stop. He never did. He separated himself as much as he could from the edge of the rooftop, taking a start -a running start. It wasn’t that far and, most of all, the buildings were almost the same height. So he didn’t need much of it to jump over. This didn’t make any sense. To risk his life like this just to check up on _something_ -because 84 was just a thing. Not someone. And even if it was one of the other HYDRA soldiers.. it shouldn’t have mattered.

But he jumped. He jumped and he landed on the other rooftop. A dining roll and he was already up on his feet.

“84.” He called, his voice muffled. “84.” He called again, walking over some of the air conditioning machines attached on the rooftop. Two holes inside one of the machine. A third one had passed through a pipe. And then, where there should’ve been the fourth one, just a stain on the floor.

His breath died, caught in his throat.

He removed his mask, lowering himself down on his knees. And he swallowed, when his hand -flesh and bones- touched with his index finger the dark, almost blackish, stain on the floor. Blood.

“84.” His voice was harsh. His mind a blank space. He walked over the elevator shaft. He found 84’s sniper rifle there and, a few steps away, behind the wall, the black suit framed 84’s right leg. Still.

He teared his mask away, leaving it on the floor, before rushing right after the corner and finding the young boy with his back at the wall. A dark and shiny stain got soaked his suit on his left side, a gloved hand pressed on it, soiled in red.

84 used his left hand.

_Mission report?,_ it gestured, slowly.

_Target’s down, what happened?,_ the Soldier couldn’t stop himself from asking. At least he succeeded in taking away his concern from his face. This was irrational.

_One sniper on the east building, did not see him._

_We need to reach the rendezvous point in twenty minutes, can you get up?,_ it was so difficult not to think about the possibility that 84 was seriously damaged. But he couldn’t stop thinking. And his mind was like a river, a river that had just demolished his dyke.

_I can not walk properly, organic parts are damaged, not only mechanic ones,_ the andriod answered.

_Then we need to hurry up,_ the Soldier insisted.

_You need to hurry up, 17. I am no longer useful to HYDRA if I am damaged,_ it was highly disturbing reading that out of 84’s bloody hands.

_You still are, do not forget the intel you’re taking with you,_ he was stubborn. He couldn’t deal with this. Not right now. _I still am the one in charge, you’ll follow my orders._

And 84 stared at him, when the Soldier lowered himself so he was able to look 84 in the eyes.

_What do you say?,_ he asked again, even if he knew he could’ve talked, instead of moving his hands.

84 stared at him, emptiness in his gaze, before doing something that looked like it was almost human. It sighed, and then nodded.

So the Soldier stared at him in almost confusion. A slight emotion, something he didn’t know he could possibly have or still feel. It was almost foreign. But he followed it, as a hunter follows the shape of a white deer inside the forest, just to put him down. Without understanding what a cruel crime it is, to kill such a wonderful creature.

But now, he had some chances to survive the following seconds. Twelve, never ending seconds, in which Bucky inched closer than he should’ve been in missions, if not required -such as this time, if he had to carry 84 to the rendezvous point. The only problem? He didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop when his breath broke against 84’s skin -cold, white skin. And while he never stopped staring at 84’s eyes, he lowered his gaze just when his lips met the other’s. It wasn’t as Bucky had imagined. He didn’t move that much. He didn’t even know what he was doing -he wasn’t sure. But he touched 84’s lips with a soft and almost caring touch. As if the android was made out of glass and porcelain, instead of actual metal. And he lowered his gaze just to define the profile of 84’s face. His cheekbones and his cheeks, when he shifted his head back again, sliding his two arms under the guy’s body. It felt odd, inappropriate, not owned. It wasn’t their place. Their weren’t _his_ lips, only looked like. Only drier, arid, cold. They didn’t shift, they didn’t move. And Bucky’s heart almost hurt when something inside him changed. He knew he needed something, something so similar to this, but not quite _this_. He couldn’t remember, he couldn’t tell what. It just didn’t seem fair, or right. Not for 84, not for him. Then for who?

He couldn’t tell. He almost felt lukewarm when he touched 84’s lips. As if they were alive, as if it wasn’t only microchips and cybernetic links. This was more complicated. He could feel 84’s breath too. It didn’t feel like he was touching a machine. Machines were cold. Even if that skin was artificial and his whole bone structure was made out of metal, it shouldn’t be _lukewarm_. That for sure.

So he told himself it was the overheating, 84 was operative, he would move, “think” and put his inner mechanism at work.. And that made more sense than anything else. Androids could overheat. It definitely was overheat.

84 didn’t make a sound. Not a complaining, not even one. It just rested between his arms, taking even breaths and looking right in front of itself. It didn’t even stare at Bucky. So Bucky just stood up and started walking, reaching the door that would’ve guided them to the stairs. He walked fast, in silence, wondering. His blurred thoughts wouldn’t let him concentrate on his next mission. He just kept walking, kept staring at the street. And in a jiffy they reached the rendezvous point, where a cargo was waiting for them.

And when they asked why he brought back a wounded prototype, he sat down on the passenger seat, looking at the soldier.

“Intel.”

Intel, yeah.

 

[...]

 

_04.30.2010_

Mission n.628, Siberia. Somewhere near Vladivostok.. Well, whatever “near” meant, of course. Probably who knows how many miles away. 847 miles from Vladivostok, for the record. They were supposed to take more than one day to put everything down. They had tasks. Five different tasks. The number of opponents was much less than they had thought. So he Soldier and 84 took them down in less time that they expected to.

He was going back from the first block when he stepped out of the door that would guide him to the other two blocks, when he had to stop. 84 was not by his side. It moved and now was standing right in front of him, hands down, its sniper rifle already packed inside a black bag on its back. And it was watching at the Soldier with empty eyes, as always.

_What is it?,_ the Soldier asked, removing his mask from his face and starting to watch around. There was no one inside the facility. No one was alive.

_I need to ask you something,_ 84 answered some seconds later, as soon as the Soldier turn his head back at its face.

When it was clear that the Soldier wouldn’t say anything, it just kept going with his hands.

_Mission n.45, eight years ago. What was that?_

The Soldier wasn’t sure if he understood the question. His mind was a strange place to go to, especially if he had to remember something. So he tried to remember the report, what he said after they returned the headquarters. But there was nothing more if not void and emptiness. He couldn’t recall anything.

_What are you talking about?,_ he asked then, looking right at the andriod.

84 stared at him, something on his face. Something that almost looked like there was a malfunctioning going on. Something troubled. _Troubled._ Was that even a thing?

_Can you do it again?_

That was not what the Soldier expected.

_I don’t know what you’re talking about,_ he repeated, frowning.

_I request the permission to show you._

The Soldier hesitated. He didn’t know what this whole thing was about, but this definitely wasn’t their mission. On the other hand, they had plenty of time to do whatever they had to and go back, so..

_Permission granted._

84 nodded, then he stalked forward and the Soldier stepped back instinctively, before going back where he was. In the meantime, 84 stopped his actions, a silent question on his face.

“Go ahead.” The Soldier said, his voice harsh. It was strange to use his voice, considering how rarely he had to.

So 84 inched closer again, until there was a little space between he and the android. The Soldier didn’t move except for when 84 asked him to, his hand moving his fingers, inviting him to lower his upper body. So he did and he stopped when 84 showed his palm in a clear sign: stop.

He stared at 84, confusion rushing through his thoughts. This way of approaching others was too dangerous. They could attack him from any directions and he’d be vulnerable or slowed down from the position. His mind started to drift. If only 84 didn’t move, he’d be lost in his mind by now. But 84 did move. Not on the left, not on his right, not.. in any directions the Soldier could tell. It moved forward, tilting his head a bit just to be able to reach his face.

After a second, he was able to feel something lukewarm, soft, dry on his lips. Something that felt wrong and right at the same time. His rational part wasn’t agreeing with the whole situation, while his irrational side was just wondering why this felt almost familiar, natural. He blinked, but didn’t move. Stayed there and waited for it to go back. And that was what 84 did after twelve seconds. It stood back and looked at Bucky.

Bucky stood up right, slowly.

_This is what 17 did eight years ago,_ 84 explained.

And then Bucky was having flashes right behind the back of his eyes. His mouth dropped open and then his lips came together. He muffled a sound, something far more lost that he thought he could sound.

_There’s nothing in the report, why do you_

_I did not report it,_ 84 interrupted him before he could finish.

Bucky hesitated again, looking back at the android.

_Why?,_ he asked.

_I do not know,_ and then it lowered its hands by its sides, shaking his head lightly. After a few minutes, 84 was back at moving. _I do not think this is something that I completely understand. Since you did it, maybe you could explain it._

Bucky drove his eyes away, his head started filling with questions, but not even the snatch of an answer.

“I don’t know.” Bucky said. It was almost funny -how he could even know what funny felt like, that he didn’t know. So he looked back at 84, quietly, meeting his gaze. Blue eyes were following him whatever he did, no matter what. He always felt observed when he was in 84’s presence, even if it didn’t really look at him all the times. And he had no idea how that could be possible, so he just faked it and ignored the whole thing.

_How do you do something you do not understand?,_ 84 asked after a while. It was just like talking to a child. A child that didn’t know what the world looked like. And Bucky was like 84 too, under that point of view. He didn’t know a lot of things of the normal world, that peaceful one where normal people lived.

_I don’t know,_ he repeated.

_Then why did you do it?_

It was almost oppressing, all those difficult questions. Where did the ranks go? Why was 84 questioning him like this? And it still managed to show respect, so..

_I don’t know,_ Bucky almost felt like he was a broken record player, always repeating the same thing.

_My protocols have nothing like that, also,_ 84 gestures were almost clumsy, slowed down, as if it needed to think properly before expressing itself.

_I don’t think that’s a protocol,_ Bucky was not sure anymore.

This was definitely another malfunction, from both of them. A dangerous one. One of those that couldn’t be stopped. But he was something different from a machine. They could erase as much as they want, but they couldn’t erase his funaments. 84.. Well, 84 was different. Right? It was an android, it only looked like a guy.

_I do not understand it,_ 84 stated again

_I can’t help you,_ Bucky almost felt sad, concluding that only sentence.

84 just nodded, lowering his gaze and looking over Bucky’s body. No, not Bucky, the Soldier’s body. He didn’t have a name, not even one he could use for himself.

_You do not have to, this is not actually important._

The Soldier nodded again, before rising his hands. _Let’s go back, I’ll inform the headquarters._

He did felt awkward, after that. The rendezvous point was far away, so they had to go back with a semi before they could actually find some other HYDRA soldiers. 84 never stopped staring at him, but it wouldn’t answer the Soldier’s question, while driving. So the Soldier didn’t mind. Maybe it was just uploading or downloading intel. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

So they went back to the headquarters as silently as they always had, inside their own, secure cages -made out of flesh, fabric and orders they both obeyed to.

 

[...]

 

_12.16.2012_

The Soldier was standing in front of a metal crib. His mind drifting, his eyes glancing at the wiping chair. The room was cold, as was the body in front of him, leaned on the crib, not even covered with a white blanket. Naked. Its blonde, straight hair was falling on the crib, showing the pale skin of its forehead. Lifeless blue eyes staring at the ceiling. They didn’t blink, not even once.

84’s chest was also even, motionless.

The first time they said it to him, he killed another man.

The second time they said it to him, he started crying.

The third time they said it to him, he just kept silent, watching them as they brought him in the room, making him sit right in front of 84’s body.

Watching at it closely, it didn’t even have so many mechanical parts. Its whole body was flesh and bones.

Not an android, so. That was a human being. An actual human being.

“You don’t need it.” the scientist on the other side of the crib is staring at the Soldier. Patience was clearly not his thing. “Say it.” He ordered.

“I don’t need hi-” Bucky’s voice just broke when one of the soldiers punched him, hard, on the jaw. Losing and finding his balance again was distracting, but he managed to go back and sit down on his chair, taking a deep breath. He didn’t share a pained stare. This kind of pain wasn’t difficult to bear. It almost sounded like a slap. Those ones parents gave their childrens to punish them when they made a mistake. So Bucky changed his mind. “I don’t need it.” He said again, his voice sounding as lost as he remembered. Emptiness rushing through his thoughts.

_It’s too late,_ regret in his thoughts.

“It’s only a machine.” The scientist kept going, relentless. He waited, waited for Bucky to say something, while Bucky had nothing but an empty stare. “Say. It.” He spelled, something hard in his voice -rage coloring his cheeks and twisting his expression.

“It’s only a machine.” Bucky repeated, obedient.

At that point, something changed on the scientist’s face. His expression went limp, before a faint smile appeared, taking his place where anger laid before. “And what are you?” He asked, his voice almost soft.

Whatever there was, whatever was rumbling inside Bucky’s head, it just stopped as that question was made. His mind just stopped working, as the only thing he could remember surfaced. And that, that felt like it was the only important thing. The real one.

“Nothing.” He answered. His eyes were lost somewhere on 84’s face, but his mind wasn’t there. Not at all.

“Good.” And then he was making a sign at the bunch of soldiers inside the room.

Everyone moved, two soldiers grabbed Bucky under his arms, forcing him to stand up. He didn’t struggle. He was already thinking about his own cryostasis capsule, when he realized it wasn’t towards the door they were taking him. But towards the _wiping chair_. He stopped his steps and turned  back at the scientist.

“No..” He muttered. No one would listen. “Please, pl- I said what I had t.. I said it!” He raised his voice now as he went against the soldiers’, pushing them away. The only result was more of them coming and grabbing him, taking him steady. “I meant it!” He cried again, his whole body tilted away from the chair.

There would’ve been pain, unbearable pain. He couldn’t afford it. He didn’t want to suffer again. He had done nothing to deserve this. He did what they asked. He was willing to go back to sleep and never see the light again, not until they’d needed him.

The scientist moved his arm, the soldiers stopped but didn’t walk away. They kept him there, in position, right one step away from the wiping chair.

Bucky swallowed hard, tension through his whole body. He wasn’t ready for this. Not again.

And then, he heard one of the soldiers inching closer to his head, murmuring soft words as if they were of some comfort.

“This is not punishment, Soldier, don’t make it become one.”

What was it, then? A _gift?_ For who? For HYDRA?

Possibly.

His mouth went dry as his teeth clenched together and a last, shaky breath came out of his nose. His mind couldn’t wrap around anything that the idea of pain, what it would’ve been like, what it would’ve felt like after it was all over. He would become accommodating, malleable, tired, _manipulable_. Pain could do so much, it already had done so much.

“Please..” the words didn’t come out properly, so nobody heard them. It only looked like he moved his lips and nothing more.

So he didn’t fight when they started moving again, after the signal. He fell on the chair and looked at all those men. Some were smiling, some were almost shocked, some were just unsympathetic.

He just closed his eyes, bit down as hard as he could on the mouthpiece, letting his voice as loud as he could, because that was one of the few times he could scream as much as he could and no one would’ve stopped him.

And everything went black.

  


-END-

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic, I'm really okay with everything you wanna leave here - but I'm so open to spam with y'all in the comments if you want, so yeah, no pressures! Whatever will be - hits, kudos or comments - I'll be happy with it. Thank you so much for reading! <3


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